


Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

by choosingtimes



Series: Louis is musically illiterate [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Harry Loves Elton John, Louis is musically illiterate, M/M, No Smut, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 15:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18034013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choosingtimes/pseuds/choosingtimes
Summary: Louis is musically illiterate and Harry loves Elton John





	Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Finished writing this and editing it in time to post on the day Louis' new single came out! Make sure y'all stream Two of Us! Please enjoy this one shot!

Louis bounced to his car, glancing at the disgusting weather that was occurring that oh so lovely Saturday evening. Everything was bleak, cold, and gray. He fumbled with his car keys in excitement though, not even the shitty weather could bring his mood down. He had just left the studio that his best friend, Liam, had recorded his album at, and Louis was clutching one of the first copies ever of the album. 

Liam had gotten some big names to be on his album like Drake and even Rihanna which when Louis asked about that, he just gave him a secretive smile and had said “I have my ways.” And Louis took that as Liam was a fucking whore, but everyone knew that.

And after Liam had handed him the album, he told Louis about the party they were having at his frat house to celebrate (which of course Liam was in a fucking frat, he was too gorgeous not to be) later that night. And like every other respectable young adult, he enjoyed parties.

He loved the drinking and getting drunk aspect of parties, but he also loved people watching. There was something fascinating with the way people interacted and how they were and what caused them to be them.

He eagerly put in Liam’s album and his wonderful voice came out languidly from the speakers, almost like the type of rain that you can’t touch, but you can feel. Louis recounted the sheer amount of time and effort that Liam had put into the album. He remembered when there were days where Liam would cry and talk about giving up on the album as a whole. And there were other, better, days that he would look at Louis with a breathtakingly beautiful look in his eyes and gush about what a great session he had just had.

Louis was proud. 

He quickly made his way home to change cause the party was in an hour. A whole hour! And Liam had just told him like the noob he was. Louis definitely didn’t get out enough if he was this excited about a party. But it was to celebrate Liam’s success so it was justifiable to act like a high schooler going to their first party with no adults.

He changed into a wife beater and skinny jeans that he knew made his ass look obscenely delicious. He did one last look in the mirror and hauled ass to Liam’s frat house before the party started. 

Louis was honestly like an honorary member of the Alpha Phi Alpha frat. He was always with them doing their activities and fundraisers with them, without being a member of the frat itself. But all the boys loved him there or at least tolerated him enough.

Well it was more like everyone was too scared of Liam to actually say anything about it, and quite frankly, Louis was cool with that.

He pulled up to the house and noticed just how eerily quiet the street was. It was like the calm before the storm. Which judging by the dark clouds that were rolling in, there truly was a storm coming.

He parked his car and hopped out eagerly, jogging up to the house and letting himself in.

“Hey Lou!” A fake blonde man cried out, going to give Louis a hug.

“Hey Niall! How’s it going man! I’ve missed you!” Louis cried out cheerily, hugging his favorite irish back.

He heard footsteps go on around him and felt a slap on his back.

“Hey man! Glad you’re here!” Liam smiled happily at Louis and he felt his heart swell with love for his friend that he’s had since forever it’s felt like.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”

Liam just smiled fondly back at him and quickly turned to look at everyone else in the room.

“Alright boys, let’s get this party started.”

 

Louis wrinkled his face in disgust after being handed a ‘mystery’ shot from Niall who just cackled at his face while recording his reaction for his snapchat.

“Fuck you! What is this?” Louis cried out, his voice hoarse. The house was positively thumping as if it was alive from the party. A whole thunderstorm was going on outside which added to the excitement to the aura that covered the house like a blanket.

“It’s vodka with licorice syrup!” Niall slurred out happily, cackling at the fact that he just poisoned Louis.

“What the fuck Ni! Who the fuck owns licorice syrup?? They need to be arrested this instant!” Louis shouted reverently over the ear pounding music. 

The leprechaun just ran away.

“What a bitch!” Louis cried out angrily, swiftly looking around, but just making himself nauseous. He breathed for a bit to calm his rolling stomach before he moved from his spot. He stumbled around till he saw a sight that caused his spastic self from knocking into people.

He was gorgeous. He had short hair that was starting to grow out and was becoming curly a bit. He was dressed in chelsea boots and a loose and flowy button up that had half of the buttons undone showing off his tattoos. He was art himself and Louis wanted to write about him. He looked like the type of guy that you only read about and that don’t actually exist. 

‘He probably has a shitty personality.’ He told himself right as Liam walked by him.

‘Don’t do it, don’t do it.’ Louis chanted in his head as he grabbed Liam.

“Hey Li! Awesome party man! Niall already fed me this disgusting shot, but quick question, who is that guy over there?” He pointed obviously towards the mysterious sex god in the corner who had a large, beautiful hand wrapped artfully around the neck of a wine bottle. Wine, of fucking course.

“Oh! That’s our newest member! He’s Harry Styles! We had been looking for an artsy type for a while, but a lot of them weren’t chill enough or honestly hated frats which why would you apply right? But go talk to him! He totally looks like your type man!” Louis blushed at that and Liam stumbled off drunkenly to god knows where.

Luckily Louis had enough liquor in his system to be confident enough to stumble his way on over there. He rudely shoved his way through the crowd to Harry who was just casually standing by himself, drinking his wine and looking all pretty. He quirked his eyebrow at Louis when Louis finally made it in front of him. When he got closer he noticed the detached look in his green eyes and Louis felt so immensely sad. So of course he had to go talk to him (was his mind set, Louis was a bit of a headass if he was honest).

“Hi I’m Louis!” 

And he threw up on him, fuck Niall’s licorice shot, honestly.

 

 

He woke up with a pounding headache and the urge to spill a certain leprechaun's blood that day. He honestly didn’t remember anything after throwing up on Harry because he passed out in his own vomit. He didn’t realize that he was that drunk and he honestly never hated Niall more than he did at this moment.

He felt a warm body next to him and he froze, checking to see if he ached or if any clothes were missing. When he realized he was all good he hesitantly looked to see who it was. Relief flooded through him when he realized it was just Liam and that he was in Liam’s room. 

He heard loud music coming from somewhere in the house and he groaned loudly. He waited a few minutes to see if the music shut off, but it just changed to another equally obnoxious song that made Louis want to jump out of the window. Using his pent up anger at Niall, he got up and followed the sound to a closed door.

He banged on it loudly, giving zero fucks whose room this was. The door slowly opened which caused the music to be louder and the pounding headache became even worse. He saw that it was Harry and he felt the blood leave his face.

“Oh it’s you, Louis right? Come to throw up on me again?” He asked dryly, a hint of amusement in his baritone voice. If Louis wasn’t so hungover, he probably would’ve nutted himself over this guys voice because of course his voice is super fucking sexy.

“Can you turn this shit off? It sucks and I’m trying to sleep and I have a killer hangover.” Louis yelled angrily over the music. When he looked at Harry, he was just standing there with his mouth open.

“This sucks? This is Elton fucking John.” Harry said in disbelief.

“Who?” Louis asked. Not giving two shits.

“What the fuck do you mean who? Elton John Louis, are you okay? Who hurt you?” And Louis couldn’t help but become bristled by that. So what if he didn’t know one shitty artist. 

“Whatever. Just turn your shit off.” And Louis walked away.

Harry just turned his music up louder and Louis wished death upon him.

 

The next time Louis came across Harry, it was in between two of his lectures. They were walking past each other when Harry shot him the nastiest glare. He had some hippie girl hanging off his arm, and Louis had a feeling that they were going to go eat quinoa and fuck. And probably to go drink wine which, god. He and Louis made eye contact again and Louis was once again dumbstruck by the amount of detachment that was in his eyes. Harry turned around and kept walking.

“Hey what the fuck man why do you hate me so much?” Louis asked, hurt lacing his voice as he stopped and turned to face Harry’s retreating back. His gorgeous retreating back which, fuck that back. 

Harry turned around slowly, a frown embedded on his stupid flawless face, “You don’t know who Elton John is and you also threw up on me and you passed out on me as well.” 

Louis felt an embarrassed flush cover his face and he stared at Harry speechless. 

“Just because I don’t know that stupid fucking artist doesn’t give you the right to disrespect me.” Louis said breathlessly, the anger accumulating in his vibrant blue eyes. 

“Well we’ll talk whenever you learn to respect that shitty artist.” And with that he walked away leaving a fuming Louis behind him. 

 

When he got home, he opened the Instagram app and searched Harry Styles into the search bar and tapped on the first result. 

Yup it was the Harry Styles alright, and his fucking artsy ass Instagram feed. Louis felt a warm feeling take home in his body while scrolling through his feed. And Louis hated that. He exited out of the app and opened Spotify to check out who Elton John was. 

He searched his name in the name bar and tapped on ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’. And Louis sat back and listened. 

When the song was over he was in love. It left a euphoric feeling throughout his body and he felt weightless. He immediately regretted calling the artist terrible. 

He opened Instagram again and followed and messaged Harry. 

Louist91: Ack! Just listened to an Elton song and I understand the hype!

He closed his phone and groaned in embarrassment at how quickly he caved to the man he met a week ago. He heard his phone buzz and he quickly picked it up. 

HarryStyles: So you finally listened huh? :)

Fucking smiley face. A whole smiley face. What did it mean? Was he happy about Louis listening or that Louis was texting him or he really just likes Elton John that much. And why was he overthinking it so much? Of course it wouldn’t be about Louis texting him they’ve barely even talked, and everytime that they have, it’s always been so aggressive. 

Louist91: Yeah! Listened to Yellow Goodbye or whatever it’s called and I felt infinite

Yeah Louis felt really fucking cheesy saying that, but that’s how he truly felt and Harry would probably appreciate it. 

HarryStyles: Honestly! I love him so much! What other music do you listen to?

Louis stared at the question, shocked that Harry wanted to find out more about him. He quickly exited out of the conversation and saw that Harry followed him back and he felt his chest flutter. He tapped on his account and saw that he had 100k followers. 

What the fuck? And he was only following 40. 40! And Louis was one of them. He saw notifications popping up of people following him now. All because Harry followed him. He started getting messages too. 

Stargiver98: whyd Harry follows you huh

HaloWings: Who are you

And dozen more messages like that. He opened up Harry’s conversation again. 

Louist91: All of your followers are following me now and sending me messages wondering why you’re following me…

Louist91: oh and I like rap? I guess I don’t really listen to music honestly 

HarryStyles: Oh hahahah sorry about that! Yeah I get tons of requests everyday. Also, I’ll have to music educate you!

Louist91: How do you even have that many followers!?!

HarryStyles: Er I don’t know they just follow me I guess...

They talked for a bit longer then he got a text from Liam. 

Liam: Hey man! You coming over?

Louis: Yeah

Louis rolled out of his bed (grudgingly he will admit) and ran eagerly out of his house to his car. He made it to the house in one piece and quickly ran inside with anticipation coursing through his veins. He immediately spotted Liam and he approached him.

“Hey man!”

“Ah hey Lou! Excited for the party tonight?”

“You know it man.” Louis usually didn’t go to this many parties, but what did it hurt letting loose a little? 

“Alright man, make yourself at home, I have to go prepare.” Which basically meant pregaming.

Louis made his way telling himself he just needed to go to the bathroom, but he ended up in from of Harry’s door. He raised his arm to knock when the door abruptly opened, showing a thoroughly fucked Harry. His eyes seemed foggy and he reeked of sex and oranges.

“Oh! Louis hey there man.” He chirped out nervously, looking behind him. Louis being the nosey son of a bitch he was peered behind Harry’s tall frame to see not one, but two people. Niall and Zayn to be exact.

“Oh Harry you naughty naughty boy.” Louis smirked out glancing at a nervous Harry who kept fidgeting.

“Liam already knows so don’t try anything now.” Harry replied back dryly, seeming to come back to his senses. 

“Why with Niall though?” Louis asked with disgust dripping out of his voice.

“Why not, he’s young and able bodied and he’s honestly not that bad looking.” Harry replied back along with a shrug from his shoulders.

“Yeah you fucking noob I’m not bad looking contrary to what you believe you fucking wanker!” Niall yelled out jokingly from the seemingly infinite room because only God knows who else Harry was hiding in his alcove.

Niall and Zayn made their way out and left Louis and Harry there, an awkward silence covering the room.

“Well are you going to let me in?” Louis asked, an entitled tone laced into his voice that Harry really tried hard not to sneer at.

“And why should I hm?” He drawled out lazily, peering down at Louis’ smaller, curvier frame.

“Um because I thought maybe we were on good terms now?” Louis asked hesitantly, praying that he didn’t just jump to conclusions because god. 

“Whatever just come on in anyways I’m gonna go clean up.” 

Louis hesitantly entered Harry’s room and wrinkled his nose at the smell of sex that permeated the whole room. His room was exactly how you would imagine an artsy kids room to be. He had stacks of playbills lining his bookshelf. His concert tickets lined his walls like they were awards that he had earned and he was proud to show them off. Harry Styles was the kind of guy that you would go on adventures with at 3 in the morning and go to terrible indie concerts with. And Louis honestly loved that. 

He went to sit on the bed, but wrinkled his nose up again at the state that his bed was in, which was completely and utterly fucking wrecked. He went to his closet and found some new bedcovers to change the bed with and stripped the bed of its sheets. Once it was made, he laid back and sighed out contently. Harry’s mattress was honestly really fucking comfy he would admit that. Louis kicked off his Converse somewhere across the room when Harry finally walked back in with a blue towel wrapped around his waist and Louis stopped breathing.

His blue eyes watched one drop of water flow down his flexing back and down Harry’s ass which honestly wasn’t even fair.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Harry said snarkily, feeling Louis’ gaze burn holes into his back.

“Aw you think so highly of yourself how adorable! Anyways I brought something.” Louis excitedly pulled a brown paper bag out of his pocket and quickly unrolled it while Harry finished getting dressed into his joggers and shirt. Once finished he bounded excitedly over to the bed and jumped on it causing Louis to fly into the air.

“Wow Harold, how adorable.” Louis rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at Harry’s playfulness. Harry stuck his tongue out and peered over Louis’ shoulder, his breath hitting his ear which caused involuntary shivers to attack Louis.

Harry noticed and continued to puff lightly on the blue eyed boy’s dainty ears. Louis turned around and swatted at Harry.

“Oi fuck off you knob!” Harry just smirked at him.

“So what did you bring?” Harry asked eagerly, attempting to get a peak.

Louis turned around and showed off two blunts.

“Weed!” 

And Harry didn’t have the heart to tell Louis that he already had his own stash.

“Thanks man.”

“I want to get high, drink wine, and listen to you read ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ to me.” Louis demanded cutely, eyes gleaming excitedly.

Harry lit his blunt up with his bedside lighter and went to search for the book request through his stacks of books. He finally found it and read the introduction while they puffed their blunts simultaneously.

“The artist is the creator of beautiful things.   
To reveal art and conceal the artists is art’s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner of a new material his impression of beautiful things.   
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography.   
Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.   
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.   
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty.   
There is no such thing as a moral or immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.   
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.   
The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium.   
No artist desires to prove anything. Even thugs that are true can be proved.   
No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style.   
No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything.   
Thought and language are the artist instruments of an art.   
Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art.   
From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the type.   
All art is at once surface and symbol.   
Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.   
Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.   
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.   
Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.   
When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself.   
We can forgive a man for making useless thing as kind as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.   
All art is quite useless.”

Louis looked up in wonderment at Harry and Harry had to restrain himself from openly goggling the man.

“That’s so stupid it makes no sense!” Louis frowned, confusion lacing his voice. Louis wasn’t really one to appreciate the arts.

“You’re only saying that cause you don’t understand what it means.” Harry said gently, feeling slight annoyance at calling a piece of Oscar Wilde’s works stupid.

“Then what does it mean smart guy huh?” Harry wracked his brain for a minute before answering.

“I believe that he is saying that art is useless until it’s given a meaning. Art is supposed to reflect the artist, but people can find themselves in art as well. And I guess art doesn’t really matter until that happens. I don’t know those are just my thoughts.” Harry said with a shrug, glancing at an awestruck Louis. Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Wow that’s deep. You could almost relate that to people as well huh?” 

“How so?”

“Well cause you are who you are, and people tend to see themselves in other people as well, and people don’t really matter until they’ve made an impact on someone’s life you know.” 

Harry was in love.

“Ack that sounded so fake deep!” Louis cried out passionately, flailing his arms and narrowly avoiding hitting Harry’s head.

“No no it was good!” Harry replied back quickly, loving this deeper side to Louis. Louis just gave him a weird look.

“There’s no way you’re real. You’re the kind of guy that people read about, not actually meet.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well you’re just artsy and cool and just so unbelievably fucking beautiful. You are art Harry. People will write songs about you I swear.”

“Some of my exes actually have, One of them actually picked up traction and became a hit. You know Ashley Row? I dated her.”

Louis looked gobsmacked. 

“Perfect Lie was about you???” 

“Yup.”

“But that song is about how she perceived the guy, er I mean you, as one way, but you ended up different.”

“Well I told her I was gay and she didn’t like that. She claimed that I was using her to keep up appearances and that I actually didn’t care about her, which was such a big fucking lie. I loved her, and I wish it were her that I could’ve been with, but life has funny ways of doing us. We broke up and she created a song about me I guess.” Harry looked forlornly off into the distance, a desolate look in his green eyes, the detached look in his eyes was stronger now than Louis had ever seen it. 

“Don’t do that to yourself, you couldn’t control that. Don’t blame yourself Harry.”

“I know, but it really does suck sometimes you know?”

Louis made a noise of agreement and they just laid there in blissful silence, listening to the increase of people entering the house for the party. All of a sudden Harry got up and went somewhere in his room. When he came back, he was brandishing a bottle of cheap wine.

“Let’s get drunk, but in a classy way.”

 

Louis couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy. He would generally speaking consider himself a prude, but something about Harry made him want to live a little. They were currently laying on the roof, staring at the immense sky above them, the racket of the party seemed so so so far away like they were in their own universe.

“They found out who I was.”

Louis looked over at Harry questioningly.

“Ashley’s fans I mean. They somehow found out the song was about me and started sending me hate. Telling me I was a worthless, that I was a stupid piece of shit, that I was a fag. That’s actually how I found out the song was about me. And when I called her to talk to her about it all, her management picked up, and wouldn’t allow me to talk to her. It was so fucking stupid.”

Louis sat up abruptly, the world spinning around him. He ignored it all and angrily turned towards Harry.

“That’s so fucking stupid! Ugh! That frustrates me so much cause you’re just so amazing and just ugh.”

“I mean you barely know me Lou.”

“Yeah, but I know you enough that you wouldn't be a dick Haz. Liam wouldn’t let someone who is a dick in the house.” 

They sat back in a type of solemn silence. The world all of a sudden seeming so much closer than it was earlier. The mood was definitely killed now and Louis couldn’t help but feel as if it was his fault. 

“Hey I’m sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset.” Louis apologized facing Harry once again. Harry took a moment to answer.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. Let’s go back in.” He finally said, his voice syrupy thick.

They clambered on in through Harry’s window, stumbling over each other and Harry’s breathy laughter was brushing across Louis’ neck and relief flowed through him because Harry seemed calm again. They landed with a thud on his floor and Harry quickly scrambled up, grabbing his wine bottle and taking a swig.

“Ugh!” He cried out, “I hate getting emotional!” He cried out passionately, his normal detached look taking place in his eyes. Harry was most definitely not okay.

Louis saw Harry quickly fumbling with his phone and ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ came on through his ceiling speakers.

“Come on! You sing Elton’s part! And I’ll sing Kiki Dee’s! You have heard this one right?” He chattered excitedly and Louis rolled his eyes affectionately.

“I’ll just google the lyrics silly.” Louis pulled up the lyrics while Harry restarted the song.

The beginning started and Louis jumped in.

“Don’t go breaking my heart!”

Harry gave him a huge grin, an electric look in his eyes when he joined in.

“I couldn’t if I tried!”

They sang the song together, dancing all over the place and chasing each other. Louis felt positively alive and Harry was oh so beautiful and just a dream. 

And Louis didn’t want to wake up.

Louis felt himself falling for Harry oh so fast. Their voices melded together like they were made to be sung together and Louis was convinced that his voices true purpose was to be sung with Harry only.

“DON’T GO BREAKING MY HEART!” They shouted together and laughing at how harshly they said it. 

When the song ended they laid back on Harry’s bed and were panting heavily as if they had just ran a marathon. Harry moved Louis’ sweaty locks out of his face and smiled so softly at the smaller man that Louis felt flightless. Like he was floating through space.

“There’s no way you’re real.” Harry whispered out in awe, the noise deafening despite the thud of the party down below. Louis just cheekily kissed his hand and chuckled.

“I know.” 

Harry shot him a mock glare and turned to face the ceiling. They laid there in comfortable silence. All of a sudden Harry broke the silence.

“Have you ever heard of Fleetwood Mac?”

“Who?”

“Oh Lou I have so much to teach you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I will be making this into a 'Louis is musically illiterate' series! Next is Fleetwood Mac & then it's the Beatles! Then I'm debating on if I should do Queen or not! Let me know what y'all think!


End file.
